Human Commoner: The Luke Skywalker of Dragon Age
by zorc62
Summary: Duncan's newly recruited Human Commoner finds himself thrust into the role of Ferelden's savior, with millions of lives depending on him. It's not such a big deal. He'll do what he has to. But maybe he can learn to read and write along the way? This was inspired by David Gaider's description of the scrapped Human Commoner Origin.
1. Chapter 1a: Farm Work

_Author's Note: Because the Warden is just learning to write, his spelling's a mess. However, each chapter will be uploaded in two versions: the first is what he actually wrote based on his current level of understanding of writing, while the second has been edited by one of his companions. The original chapters are odd-numbered, and the revised ones are even-numbered. If the improper spelling bothers you, just follow the even-numbered chapters. The content's the same, aside from the occasional note added at the end of a chapter by the editing companion._

Deer Dyarie,

Allistare and Lilyana hav bin teechin me to read and rite. Ime gonna bee a lernd man soon! Lilyana sed I wood lern better if I practised mor, and sudjested that I keep a dyarie. So Ile tell yu about evrythin wee du on this jurny. Ide start by tockin about wat happend today, but yu dont no wer the story started, so that woodnt make sens to yu. Yu see, all of this started for me wen I met Duncan, so Ile go back and start ther.

… … …

It was a normal day. Ther wer som clouds in the sky, but not enuff that it wood rane. Weed had the rane we needed for the seezon, and ther had been a big storm the daye beefor, so it was nise to be both dry and not to hot. My sister made sum porridj for brekfast. It was pretty good.

Ide just finishd brekfast wen Unkel Brayden came into the kitchen. A big skoul markd his rugged oald face, his long gray hare not yet put in order.

"Yur still in heer, boy?" Unkel sed in disbeleef. "Laziness is a sin, and yur father alreddy has more than enuff of it for the hole hous."

The sun hadnt yet risen, so it wasnt time yet to get to work. Never the less, I nyu that Unkel woodnt want to heer that, so I took his yellin.

"Billy found a pees of the fens broken doun by the woods yesterday. I want yu and yur father out ther to fix it nou!" Unkel continued.

"Fine," I told him, and left. Ther was no need to tell him anythin mor. It coodnt help things. Unkel was alwaze a meen man, but I just had to deel with it. The Maker givs us eech our tryals. If mine was puttin up with Unkel and bein a loely cuzin to the next hed of the freeholder hous, that wasnt so bad. I cood swing a hammer, plant nales, and carry lodes better than anywan. I nyu I was helpin my family, and that was enuff for mee.

… … …

I found Father out in the storadj shed alreddy. He was gatherin the nales and wood weed need to fix the fens. Father was an old man by this time. The yeers had worn him doun, as had puttin up with his offul brother for over fifty years. He was strugglin to lift wan of the planx, but I grabbd it and added it to the pile.

"Thanx, my boy," Father said, givin mee a genyuin smile. No man has evr faced age with more grace than my Father, who nyu his limits and recognizd wen hee needed help, but still wanted to evrything hee cood still du. Hee was so much the opposit of his brother. I will nevr no wai the Maker made my Father the yunger wan.

… … …

I carryd the planx and the hammer, and my Father brot the nales. The suthern end ov our familys land was haff a mile from the hous, soe wee got ther pretty quickly. Sumthin had broken both the top and bottom wooden bars of the fens in haff between to of the fens posts. The posts wer both crackd. Luzin fore planx of wood was costly, but wee coodnt anything about that. The fens was probably broken by the storm weed had the daye beefor. After weed remoovd the planx that wer still intact leedin to the posts connected to the broken wans, wee went to uproot wan of the broken posts wen I cot an odd smell in the ayre. Sumthin smelld ded, but wurs than ded, as if sick with a livin playg that wishd deth upon the world.

"Thats the worst stench Ive ever smelld," Father told mee.

"Indeed," I replyde. "Wee shood go see wat it is. If thers trubbel, its better we no now."

"Good thinkin lad," My Father sed. "Ile bet sum dark fors is at wurk. The templars will need to no wat it is."

It was eezy to folloe the sent to its sors. It advertizd itself so thurully that wee kudnt hav missd it if wee wer both sick with colds. It took a bit to wok to the sors, tho. I expected it to bee found just beyond wer we cood see from the fens, but it was actually much further into the woods. Wee found a ded ber to bee the sors of the foul odor.

"Bers ar tuff creeturs," Father told me. "A pack of wulvs cood bring wan doun, but theyd rarely fite to begin with, noein that theyd loos sum of ther one beefor the ber was brot doun."

"And ther ar no ded wulvs about," I observd. "Hunters, then? But they wudnt leev it heer to rot."

"Then of cors thers the smell," Father added. "Sumthin supernatural is at work; I dont like it. Wee must leev at wans to fetch the templars."

"Shurly we cood at leest see wat happend to the beest?" I sudjested. "All wee need to do is turn it over and see the sors of that pile of blod. We need more informaeshun, or the templars mite not ker to kom tsheck on it.

"Wee shudd go, son," Father insisted. "Sumthin foul is amidst, and its danjerus to stay."

"Itll take but a moment," I told him. I knelt doun and pushd the beest over onto its stomack. Ther was a larj punctyur woond as tho a giant speer or arroe had torn into the beest. Its chest was split asundr, and was the sors of the leekin blud. The size of the woond was itself extra ordinary, but particularly so was wat surrounded it. The flesh neer the woond was without fur. Instedd, it was covverd in black puss and mounds of pink flesh, as if sum nyu grothe had taken ahold of the ded ber.

"Wat cud this bee, Father?" I sed, starin at the woond.

I got no anser.

"Father?"

Lookin up, I saaw him standin ther, face in shock, with an arroe thru his throte. Time seemd to sloe as his body fell to the ground, and I lookd around and saw the most fearsom thin Ive ever lade my eyes on.

Standin ther, but sevral feet away, wa

Ile hav to tell yu layter. Lilyanas heer to releev mee from watch. Ile rite mor tomorroe. Wee ar yet sevral dayes from Redclif.


	2. Chapter 1b: Farm Work Revised

_Author's Note: This is the first chapter again, but this is the revised version, with all the spelling fixed, courtesy of Leliana._

Dear Diary,

Alistair and Leliana have been teaching me to read and write. I'm gonna be a learned man soon! Leliana said I would learn better if I practiced more, and suggested that I keep a diary. So I'll tell you about everything we do on this journey. I'd start by talking about what happened today, but you don't know where the story started, so that wouldn't make sense to you. You see, all of this started for me when I met Duncan, so I'll go back and start there.

… … …

It was a normal day. There were some clouds in the sky, but not enough that it would rain. We'd had the rain we needed for the season, and there had been a big storm the day before, so it was nice to be both dry and not too hot. My sister made sum porridge for breakfast. It was pretty good.

I'd just finished breakfast when Uncle Brayden came into the kitchen. A big scowl marked his rugged old face, his long gray hair not yet put in order.

"You're still in here, boy?" Uncle said in disbelief. "Laziness is a sin, and your father already has more than enough of it for the whole house."

The sun hadn't yet risen, so it wasn't time yet to get to work. Nevertheless, I knew that Uncle wouldn't want to hear that, so I took his yelling.

"Billy found a piece of the fence broken down by the woods yesterday. I want you and your father out there to fix it now!" Uncle shouted.

"Fine," I told him, and left. There was no need to tell him anything more. It couldn't help things. Uncle was always a mean man, but I just had to deal with it. The Maker gives us each our trials. If mine was putting up with Uncle and being a lowly cousin to the next head of the freeholder house, then that wasn't so bad. I could swing a hammer, plant nails, and carry loads better than anyone. I knew I was helping my family, and that was enough for me.

… … …

I found Father out in the storage shed already. He was gathering the nails and wood we'd need to fix the fence. Father was an old man by this time. The years had worn him down, as had putting up with his awful brother for over sixty years. He was struggling to lift one of the planks, but I grabbed it and added it to the pile.

"Thanks, my boy," Father said, giving me a genuine smile. No man has ever faced age with more grace than my Father, who knew his limits and recognized when he needed help, but still wanted to everything he could still do. He was so much the opposite of his brother. I will never know why the Maker made my Father the younger one.

… … …

I carried the planks and the hammer, and my Father brought the nails. The southern end of our family's land was half a mile from the house, so we got there pretty quickly. Something had broken both the top and bottom wooden bars of the fence in half between two of the fens posts. The posts were both cracked. Losing four planks of wood was costly, but we couldn't anything about that. The fence was probably broken by the storm we'd had the day before. After we'd removed the planks that were still intact leading to the posts connected to the broken ones, we went to uproot one of the broken posts when I caught an odd smell in the air. Something smelled dead, but worse than dead, as if sick with a living plague that wished death upon the world.

"That's the worst stench I've ever smelled," Father told me.

"Indeed," I replied. "We should go see what it is. If there's trouble, it's better we know now."

"Good thinking lad," My Father sed. "I'll bet sum dark force is at work. The Templars will need to know what it is."

It was easy to follow the scent to its source. It advertised itself so thoroughly that we couldn't have missed it if we were both sick with colds. It took a bit of time to walk to the source, though. I expected it to be found just beyond where we could see from the fence, but it was actually much further into the woods. We found a dead bear to be the source of the foul odor.

"Bears are tough creatures," Father told me. "A pack of wolves could bring one down, but they'd rarely fight to begin with, knowing that they'd lose sum of their own before the bear was brought down."

"And there are no dead wolves about," I observed. "Hunters, then? But they wouldn't leave it here to rot."

"Then, of course, there's the smell," Father added. "Something supernatural is at work; I don't like it. We must leave at once to fetch the Templars."

"Surely we could at least see what happened to the beast?" I suggested. "All we need to do is turn it over and see the source of that pile of blood. We need more information, or the Templars might not care to come check on it.

"We should go, son," Father insisted. "Something foul is amidst, and it's dangerous to stay."

"It'll take but a moment," I told him. I knelt down and pushed the beast over onto its stomach. There was a large puncture wound as though a giant spear or arrow had torn into the beast. Its chest was split asunder, and was the source of the leaking blood. The size of the wound was itself extraordinary, but particularly so was what surrounded it. The flesh near the wound was without fur. Instead, it was covered in black puss and mounds of pink flesh, as if some new growth had taken ahold of the dead bear.

"What could this be, Father?" I said, staring at the wound.

I got no answer.

"Father?"

Looking up, I saw him standing there, face in shock, with an arrow through his throat. Time seemed to slow as his body fell to the ground, and I looked around and saw the most fearsome thing I've ever laid my eyes on.

Standing there, but several feet away, wa

I'll have to tell you later. Leliana's here to relieve me from watch. I'll write more tomorrow. We are yet several days from Redcliffe.

_I'm sorry to hear about the loss of your father. May he find peace with the Maker. - Leliana_


End file.
